The Golden Age in Transylvania Part 30

"We are fugitives from our country," sobbed Sophie, falling on her father's breast. "Our estates in Hungary have been taken from us. My husband has been driven from his castle and is fleeing for his life."

Beldi grew serious. This unexpected Job's messenger brought war to his soul. Within thundered Tokoli's voice summoning them to an uprising and Beldi no longer was in a hurry to check it.

"Stay with me," he said, sorrowfully. "Here you can live in peace until the fate of the country meets with a change."

"Too late," replied Wesselenyi. "I have already enlisted as common soldier under the standard of the French general, Count Bohan."

"You, a common soldier! You, a descendant of the Palatine Wesselenyi!

And what is to become of my daughter meantime?"

"She is to remain with you and to be widowed until the struggle for Hungary is over."

When he had finished speaking he placed his young wife Sophie in Beldi's arms, kissed her brow and went away with dry eyes.

Within the people were clamoring. Beldi saw his daughter sob and a bitter feeling began to blaze in his breast, not unlike revenge. He began to feel almost content that within there was a cry for war and he stood ready to draw his sword--he, the leader of the peace party!--to rush into the hall of the Diet and cry aloud, "War and retaliation!"

At this moment the pages conducted to the door of the entrance hall an old man, pale as death who, recognizing Beldi, hastened to him and addressed him with trembling voice:

"My lord, surely you are the general of the Szeklers, Paul Beldi, of Uzoni?"

"Yes, what do you wish of me?"

"I am," stammered, in dying voice, the sick old man, "Benfalva's last inhabitant. The rest have all been carried off by war--famine--pestilence. I alone am left; after I came away the place was entirely deserted; I too feel my release near and so I have brought with me to give over to you, the public seal, and the--village bell--give them over to the nation--let them be kept in the archives--and let it be written above: 'This was the bell and the seal of Benfalva, in which village everybody to the last man is dead'!" At this Beldi let his hand fall from his sword hilt in dismay and freed himself from the embrace of his daughter who was still clinging to him.

"Go home to your mother at Bodola, and learn to bear your fate n.o.bly."

He then took the seal out of the hand of the death-stricken old man and hurried back into the hall just as Tokoli had finished his speech, causing a terrible effect on the entire a.s.sembly. The French amba.s.sador pressed his hand. Beldi took his place at the Szeklers'

table and laid down the seal. He was universally respected and when they saw that he was ready to speak there was perfect silence.

"See," he said in excited tones; "a desolated village sends here to the country its official seal by its last inhabitant, and he too is at the point of death. . . . Of such villages there are already enough in Transylvania and in time there may be still more. Famine and war have laid waste the most beautiful portions of our country. . . . This seal, my lords, you must not forget to place among the symbols of your victories."

These last words Beldi uttered hardly above a whisper yet they were heard in every corner of the hall, so deep a silence reigned. A tremor pa.s.sed over the faces of the men.

"Outside the door I hear some one weeping," Beldi went on with quivering lips. "It is my own daughter, the wife of Paul Wesselenyi, who has been driven from her country and who has thrown herself sobbing at my feet that I in revenge for her wrongs may allow retaliation to prevail. . . . And I say to you, let my child weep, let her perish, let me--and if necessary my entire family, be set apart for destruction, but let n.o.body in Transylvania suffer on account of my sorrow--even if every one of you has agreed to the war--I am against it--My lords--do not forget, I pray you, to lay among your trophies this seal, and soon the rest too."

When he had spoken, Beldi took his place again. Long after his words were ended the silence of the grave reigned throughout the hall.

Teleki, ascribing this silence to disapproval rose, sure of his position, and made the states give their votes. But this one time he had not taken the public pulse correctly, for the majority of the states, affected by the previous scene voted for peace, so great was the influence of Beldi and Banfy still over the country.

Teleki looked in confusion toward his son-in-law. The latter muttered bitterly with clenched fists and tears in his eyes:

"Flectere si nequeo superos, Acheronta movebo."

When the a.s.sembly had broken up Forval and Nicholas Bethlen met.

"So then there is no future hope of seeing Transylvania take up arms,"

said the Frenchman, somewhat dejectedly.

"On the contrary we just begin to hope with good reason," replied Bethlen, laying his hand on his friend's shoulder.

"Did you listen when the young man spoke?"

"He spoke beautifully."

"It is not a question of beautiful speaking. I think that is the man you are looking for."

"A King of Hungary?"

"Or a fugitive fleeing from country to country, just as the dice fall."

CHAPTER XVI

THE LEAGUE

In accordance with a good old custom every festivity must close with a banquet, so this noisy Diet was closed with a still noisier revel at which Michael Apafi again presided, and this time with justice, for according to the old chronicles a skin of wine was not enough for him at a sitting.

Wine gives a peculiar fire not only to love but also to hatred. If ladies are at table we must look out for our hearts; but when men are together then our heads are in danger.

After the feasting, in true Transylvanian fashion the drinking was continued standing. The entertainment took on a livelier cast and the Prince turned to each one of the lords as they stood, holding out a full beaker to them and challenging them to drink.

"Drink! to my health! to the welfare of the country--or to whatever else you please!" The men were all in good spirits, quarreling with each other good-naturedly and becoming reconciled again. One man only who never drank, Michael Teleki, remained sober.

Beware of those who remain sober when everybody gets drunk! Teleki went round among the lords who were drinking together on a wager and joking, and had for some time been moving stealthily about Banfy, when Banfy noticed him and turned toward him jestingly.

"How sad you are!" he said, with a pitying laugh; "just like a man who has lost a palatinate."

This remark came very aptly for Teleki. With a smile out of which gleamed a deadly dagger, he replied:

"No thanks to you! If Paul Beldi had not been present you would have been alone with your vote. But it has happened once more, in the presence of so influential a man as Paul Beldi we must all bow. His words are for all the country like the amen in the prayer."

Teleki bowed with a show of deep respect as he thrust this poisoned steel into the great lord's heart, for there was nothing could so touch him as to have somebody considered greater than himself, especially when it was a man who deserved it. Teleki now turned to Beldi, drew him into the recess of a window and gently demanded speech with him.

"I have always regarded you as a very n.o.ble-hearted man; to-day I learned, although to my own disadvantage, to recognize you as doubly so. The Diet knows only that you sacrificed your love for your daughter when you voted for peace. I know besides that you sacrificed at the same time your hatred for Banfy."

"I--I never hated Banfy!"

"I know why you have concealed this hatred. You think that your reasons for it are not known to anybody. Oh my friend, we who are men know well that one may pardon a dagger thrust but never a kiss!"

Beldi drew himself up and knew not how to answer this man who had thrust the most painful sting of jealousy into his heart, broken off the point and now left him with a smile.

At this moment Banfy came up behind him. In Banfy burned the desire to make Beldi feel his arrogance and he sought an opportunity of coming to blows with him. Beldi did not notice him at first and when the Prince, by chance, reached that part of the hall at that moment and with friendly words offered him the jewel-studded beaker in his hand, Beldi thought that the invitation was to him alone and never once suspecting that anybody else was reaching for the beaker, he took it from the hand of the Prince and drained it off to his health at the very moment that Banfy reached out his hand for it. Banfy grew purple with rage and turning haughtily to Beldi, he said in an insulting tone:

"Not so fast, Szekler, you might at least, since I am the general of the country, show me sufficient respect not to take the gla.s.s from my very lips. I would have you understand that if you continue in such insolence we may easily come to blows."

Had Beldi been in any other state of mind he would have excused himself for his mistake with his wonted moderation, but now the desire had been roused within him to measure his strength. He looked at Banfy calmly from head to foot and said with suppressed anger: